Revelations
by scarlet-fever666
Summary: It was more than both their jobs' worth if they were discovered, if they let one tiny thing slip...Set two years after the manga. Maria/Denny and Roy/Riza. Some spoilers, language.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - This is written some time after the events of the manga, probably about two years. So there are some spoilers! There have been some rank changes to take that kind of stuff into account, but this is a little bit AU. Also, I love Riza._

"Shit."

This wasn't how Maria had planned this moment, standing in a dingy official bathroom, watched by the wary eyes of the portraits installed above the sinks and the weary ones of Riza. It was meant to be a grand revelation, perhaps surrounded by friends and family, in her home, without a care or a worry in the world. Instead, a million problems had begun gestating in her mind.

They'd been so careful, she'd known that. It was more than both their jobs' worth if they were discovered, if they let one tiny thing slip. Only Roy and Riza knew about their relationship; only Roy and Riza understood the risks they were both taking. Maria couldn't help wishing Roy would hurry his quest to become Fuhrer and lift the laws keeping everyone apart.

So they kept to themselves, meeting only every few weeks outside of the office, under the pretence of delivering important documents and discussing military plans on the doorstep in case they were watched, even talking up the stairs to her flat, wary of nosy neighbours. She had even started placing blankets around the door and her bed; her walls were far too thin, as she'd discovered after a neighbour had nearly knocked her door down from fright, when they'd been a touch too loud.

But then, two months had come and gone, without the familiar feminine aches, and she had known, instantly, that her cover would be blown.

She had gone to Risembool, under the pretext of visiting Al and his new happy home. Taking Pinako aside, she had asked whether there was a doctor nearby. Pinako had simply looked at her, felt her stomach, and said there was no need for a doctor.

It wasn't religious guilt; Maria had never set much store by that sort of thing, and nobody yet knew that a priest had blessed their union when they had "investigated" his house in the mountains last spring. He had insisted; he had lost her before, he had argued, and would not lose her again. Once the laws were lifted, he promised, they would do things properly.

He would understand, she knew that, but the upper echelons (with exception to Roy) certainly wouldn't.

"Riza," she said quietly, and Riza looked up at her face, which was glistening with tears in the lamplight, "help me."

Riza looked right into her eyes and nodded almost imperceptively.

"Of course."

Riza was struggling with herself.

She was just about to tell Maria her news, life changing news, and Maria had torn it apart with her announcement.

Laws took months to pass in Central, they both knew that, but in just over seven months the fraternisation laws would be lifted, due on no small account to Roy's endless badgering in council sessions. Luckily, it was common knowledge that the current Fuhrer and a secretary were falling hard and fast for each other, and that it was only a matter of time.

Until that time, Riza was going to say, they both needed to be careful, to not let anything slip, and then they could both be happy in the knowledge that their love and their jobs could coexist.

This changed everything.

Maria was married. Maria was pregnant. It was enough for the military tribunal to fire her, possibly even court martial her, and they were feeling bitter enough from this blow to their power. Riza had seen the fate of pregnant soldiers before; outcast and downtrodden, a few had been ordered to give up their children to the military base for training, and she had a suspicion this was where they obtained the children all those years ago during the Experimentation. If what Maria said about her pregnancy was accurate, her baby would arrive almost a week before the laws were dissolved; the tribunal would leap on this, throw her out, and take her baby as the last rule breaker.

A little part of her was hurt that Maria hadn't mentioned the marriage sooner, but she supposed there was a lot that Roy and her had been hiding; truth be told, she was amazed Denny hadn't spilt any information. Evidently his love (and Maria's rather powerful methods of persuasion) had stopped him doing anything too foolish.

A thought struck her.

"Does Denny know?"

Maria shook her head, slowly, biting her lip to stop a cry bursting out.

"Wait here. Don't go anywhere, don't go with anyone."

Riza turned on her heel, marching out the toilets, leaving a stricken Maria. Her boots stomped on the floor as she walked to her office. She opened the door, surveying her surroundings. Breda and Falman were playing chess; Denny was watching, mouth wide open, at the speed and skill of the two soldiers.

"Brosch. A word."

His eyes flew up; his mouth stayed open. Without batting an eyelid, Falman reached out with one hand and pushed it shut, the other capturing a knight of Breda's.

She grabbed his arm, practically dragging him to the bathroom.

"Um – ma'am – Riza – I can't go in here – "

"Oh, for god's sake," Riza snarled, trying to suppress the anger that had been building up inside her, "shut up and move, Denny."


	2. Chapter 2

Maria looked up from the piece of toilet paper she had been shredding into little squares for the past ten minutes to see a very flushed Denny bundle through the door, followed by Riza, her icy stare for which she was so well known boring into him.

"Maria!" he panted, his blonde hair falling unceremoniously across his brow. "What the hell is going on?"

Maria took a deep breath, and told him. To her surprise, his face lit up, aglow with what seemed to be pride.

"That's great news!" he exclaimed, grabbing her arms and pulling her into a bear hug. Riza coughed from the doorway. "Um, I mean, that's…terrible." He looked to Riza, his face beaming with joy, looking for approval for his sudden turn of phrase.

Maria had to suppress a laugh; Riza's eyebrows had shot up into her fringe, and the corners of her mouth had twitched into a smile. She was sure she had imagined it, however, as the colonel quickly shut the door behind her, her eyes glinting with a plan.

"This is what you are going to do. Denny, you will leave this bathroom right now. Act like nothing has happened; if people ask why you were in here, tell them Colonel Hawkeye sent you in to check on Ross, who is violently ill and must not be approached."

Denny nodded, and left the bathroom quickly, furtively checking both ways before shutting the door.

Once he had gone, Riza turned to Maria, and Maria fully appreciated how powerful a woman Riza could be. Her amber eyes had a steely shine to them, and her hands gripped Maria's shoulders tightly.

"You have to quit the military."

"What?" Maria was shocked. Riza, Riza Hawkeye, was telling her to run away, run from everything she worked for. "I can't, Riza, I just can't – "

Riza slammed her fist into the sink.

"God damn it, Maria, do you think I like telling you this? You have no other choice! If you leave now, you stand a chance of fooling the tribunal into thinking you fell pregnant outside of the military! They can't prove it, and they couldn't touch you or your baby! I'm telling you this for your own damn good!"

Maria shook. She only saw the fierce protective side of Riza when she was defending the major general from his attackers and his personal demons.

"Look," Riza said, and some softness had returned to her voice, "if you leave now, I can help you and support you far more easily than if you stay and get discovered. You're going to start showing soon," and her eyes drifted to Maria's stomach, which Maria placed her hands on instinctively, "and then you will be in far, far more trouble than you can even fathom."

Maria understood Riza perfectly, yet she wasn't sure she could do it. Leave her beloved job, what she had worked so hard for, all her achievements, all her dreams. Everything she did seemed to centre around the military; she worked so much harder than her peers (and definitely, she thought wryly, harder than her slacker husband.)

And yet…as her hands rested on her stomach, she thought back to her childhood, when her sister placed a dishcloth on her head, and they played weddings and families, and that was all the future held for them. But her sister's future ended with the cough that had claimed her, a few months after Maria had left to train. Her letters had simply stopped, just after Maria had written for the millionth time about the young blonde boy that sat next to her during class and slipped her love notes; she even sent her one to read. Back then, Maria still dreamed of someone to sweep her off her feet, and they wrote back and forth about the possibilities she would find in Central.

When the letters stopped, Maria assumed that the postal service, notoriously bad, had lost them. Her sister never once mentioned that she was slowly dying, struggling to write as the cough stopped her hands staying steady and blood stained her paper. Her last letter, kept in an ornate box with a number of childhood keepsakes, had a tiny postscript telling Maria that her throat was troubling her slightly but it was nothing to worry about.

Maria only found out when her parents came to take her home and her sister didn't rush from the train to greet her. It had been a month since her last letter. Her parents had arrived in Central a week after her death; they were coming to take her to the funeral.

She lost herself in her work, ignoring Denny for almost a year. Her co-workers told her constantly that Denny adored her, doted on her, but she couldn't allow herself to fall for him. That was their dream.

Finally, after she had returned from Xing, and he had greeted her so enthusiastically, so grateful to have her back, she had relented, slowly returning his love until it was completely irrevocable.

Yet the idea of leaving what she had built up, on her own terms, and fulfilling the dreams they were meant to have shared terrified her. Her baby was meant to have an aunt, a co-conspirator against her, someone to confide secrets too painful for her own ears, and she wasn't able to give them that. All she had to give was herself, and that was in no way enough.

"Riza," she mumbled, momentarily surprised at how small her voice sounded.

Riza's tough gaze met her own, and her eyes crinkled slightly around the edges. With a gentleness that Maria never thought possible from the Hawk, she pulled her subordinate close to her, and embraced her, a hand stroking through her short hair.

"Whatever you're thinking, Maria," Riza whispered in Maria's ear, "don't. You are going to be a great mother."

Not to Riza's surprise, Maria burst into hot tears, collapsing onto her shoulders and pulling her closer. Riza held her as tight as she could, her hand unconsciously mimicking what her father did when she used to cry.

Or at least, when he noticed that she was crying.

"So long as you're there for your baby," Riza told the wall in front of her, "there is nothing they will blame you for."

Riza's eyes began to tear, and she fought them back with the inner strength she had cultivated over years of hardship. Only Roy knew about her turbulent relationship with her father, and it was staying that way.

She still remembered the last time she cried in front of her father. At 17 years old, he had called her into his study, and told her to lie face down on the table. Once there, he proceeded to ink his research onto her back, with the quill she had always coveted. A second later, she had screamed, as her father placed two hands on her and burned the marks into her skin. It took him an hour to be happy with his work. Once finished, he had looked straight into her scared eyes, told her she was too old for such nonsense, and left the room, saying over his shoulder how he needed to discuss his progress with Mustang. His death came two weeks afterwards.

Riza had visited that house only once since she had left it. Roy had insisted on coming with her. He had been so angry that he had reduced the desk to cinders.

Riza pushed Maria back, holding her out at arms length.

"Maria, look at me – look at me."

Maria looked up, her eyes and nose running.

"Will you be there for your child?"

"Of course."

Riza smiled, sadly.

"Then I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. You are a vibrant, strong, amazing woman, and that child has got so much to learn from you. Certainly more so than Denny."

Maria snorted through her tears, before reaching into a stall to tear off some tissue paper.

"He is useless sometimes," she conceded through blows, "but I think that's why I love him so much."

She drew herself up to full height.

"I am going to hand in my notice now."

Riza started.

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

Riza was a little taken aback by Maria's sudden change of heart. Still, she reasoned, she must know what she needs to do.


	3. Chapter 3

Maria had always been the protective one, the maternal one.

When the Elric brothers had discovered the secrets kept from all of them, she had visited Edward's room that night to find him curled in the corner, his true age taking over (she sometimes thought the military forgot he was only a boy, despite his often vehement protests to the contrary.) She'd run in, held him close as he tried to push her away, suffered bruises as his heavy automail arm had clashed painfully with her side. When she'd watched him from the little coal bunker, her heart almost broke as he lashed out at Mustang, his brother holding him back as he railed in the street. When they had met once more and parted all too soon, at the deserted temple of Ishbal, she had wanted her embrace with the brothers to last for as long as it could, and had wept when she had to leave them.

It had almost killed her when she made the decision for Mustang to inform her parents of her death. They had already lost one child; losing another was apparently too much to bear. On her return, when the dust from the War had cleared, Maria returned to her birthplace to find her father lost in his work, and her mother as gaunt as a skeleton, refusing to leave her room. Neither had forgiven Mustang for taking their little girl away from them, especially so after she had returned and they realised he had lied, and both made a point to ignore him at functions.

Maria knew her parents would willingly allow her to live with them once she had left military accommodation; the news of a grandchild would give them so much joy. They had been pestering her about it since five of her childhood friends fell pregnant in the same month last year, due in no small part to the celebratory mood of the public at the time. She didn't want to burden them too long, but she could save, maybe get a job with her father in the meantime, and buy her own little house with Denny.

Denny had always wanted children. He would lie on his back in her bed and talk at her about the house they would have together, and the three children, one boy one girl one he didn't mind which, as she would fall slowly asleep listening to his hopes spill out of him. She'd never forgotten the look on his face when he saw she had returned, the hopelessly loveable lunatic. Tears running all over his face, the silly fool, and a nose to match. He'd been so grateful to have her back, so pleased that she hadn't left him forever, that he had refused to leave her side for a week afterwards, until she had had to hit him with a stack of papers to stop him following her everywhere.

Her parents doted on him, treating him as a son they had never had, spoiling him rotten whenever they came to visit. They knew the nature of the relationship perfectly well, and had taken to asking Maria when they could expect wedding bells, despite knowing the exact rules of the military about such matters. Denny's parents, however, weren't so keen on Maria; first she had been a murderess, then she had abandoned their precious oldest son and broken his heart. They were beginning to warm to her, however, as she bonded with Denny's brothers and sisters and visited them when she could.

They would all love a new family, because the old one was so broken. All of us need a new start, Maria thought, especially you, little one. I won't let anybody take that away from us.

Riza watched Maria leave the bathroom, and turned to look at herself in the mirror. Her hair was beginning to fall out of her clip, and she reached behind her head, extracting the brown clasp with some difficulty. Her hair fell loose about her shoulders, and she brushed a hand through it absently.

She regretted losing her temper at Maria, but it infuriated her when people refused to step back from their situations and appreciate what they had together, especially when she was finding it so difficult with Roy.

His sight had not yet returned; he described it as blocks of light and dark, and he could see people's faces if they were close to his own, but otherwise he was blind, unable to see those most precious to him. He joked that he no longer had to see Fullmetal's "hideous" face, but Riza could tell that he was heartbroken when Fuery had brought his newborn son to show to the office, and the baby had cried when they held him to Roy's face to see, frightened by the looming, unfocused eyes. Fullmetal had laughed, but at least had the courtesy to stop when Riza had shot him one of her looks.

He had refused to leave his office that night, even when Riza almost dragged him out of the seat.

"Riza," and she had to strain to hear him, "leave me."

She had smacked him about the head.

"Don't be an idiot."

"Riza, I am not joking!" he had bellowed, with such force that she had taken two steps back.

They fought for almost two hours that night, Riza stubbornly refusing to leave him, Roy refusing to leave the office. Roy would insist that his eyesight would stop them doing so much together, and Riza would insist that it wouldn't make a single piece of difference to her, and the conversation would simply wind itself round in circles. She deserved someone better, he had argued, someone who could provide for her, someone who was whole. Riza had remarked that a major general's pay was perfectly sufficient to provide for her, she didn't need providing for anyway, and that a whole man was one that hadn't faced enough of the world to understand what she needed.

"I almost lost my life for you, Roy, and there is not a man on earth that I would do that for except you. You should know that by now."

Roy had gone very quiet after she had snapped that, and she had wondered if she had gone too far. He had then grasped her lapel, and brought her right forward. His hands had traced along her neckline, along the thin scar that cut right across it, shining in the moonlight.

They had talked for so long after that, discussing for the first time since the accident their future together, what they both wished for as a couple. Riza knew that Roy would adore a child of his own, to raise and cherish, but he simply couldn't bear never being able to see them. Having a child who cried every time he tried to admire them would tear him apart. They agreed that they would hold off anything serious until the fraternisation laws were passed, and then they could talk freely about their situation.

Riza's greatest dream was for Roy to gain enough of his sight back to walk up an aisle unaided. But she couldn't tell him that. For now, she would be content if he accepted that she would love him deeply no matter what fate befell him.


	4. Chapter 4

"DENNY! YOU DID THIS TO ME! GET BACK HERE!"

Denny had never been more petrified in his life.

His beloved wife was making the most unholy noises he had ever heard. Whoever said childbirth was beautiful, he thought, was lying through their back teeth. The last time he had ventured near the bed, his hand had nearly been wrenched off, there was blood everywhere, and Maria had punched him so hard his arm had bruised like a peach. She had shooed him away, trying to do the breathing exercises the Xingese doctor had taught her, and now she was trying to get him back to her side, and Denny wasn't going. He would sit at the end of the bed, as far away from her pincer hands as possible.

He quickly decided that sitting by her was actually a better idea, as the doctors were busy with their head god-knows-where, and he wasn't quite ready for the view anyway.

The whole thing was nothing like other mothers had described. Fuery's wife, a young flower girl from the market, had claimed that hers was a practically painless experience (Maria's mother, who had invited the couple to a summer dinner, had snorted rather loudly) and his own mother had said that it was all worth it in the end.

His poor mother had put up with a lot in recent months. First, the announcement that Maria was pregnant came ("Denny, a baby outside of marriage? We raised you better than that!"), then that they were secretly married ("Denny, how could you not tell us something so important?"), and then finally that they would be living with Maria's parents until they could afford their own house ("DENNY! We raised you too! Does our love mean nothing to you?") His father had hidden behind the newspaper, desperately shushing Denny's amused siblings, who had taken to following Denny round repeating his mother's choice phrases. Both sets of parents were currently arguing over who the couple should live closest to when they did get their own house. Maria had found a house directly between the two of them, with a big enough garden for the family they dreamed of, and close enough to the city that Denny could still take his little bike, but far away enough that their children could play in the street without constant interference from their parents begging them to stay away from traffic..

That is, Denny thought, as Maria's hand grabbed his shirt and wrenched his head forward, slamming it into the bed railing as she gave a monumental push, if they survived this first. His idea of three children was rapidly leaving out the nearest exit. One experience like this was enough for him.

"One last push!" shouted the doctor, armed with the biggest pair of forceps Denny had ever seen. He was suddenly very grateful to be a man.

Roy sat on a bench outside, listening to Maria's screams and Denny's frantic encouragements, and was fleetingly grateful that it was not him in that operating theatre.

The hospital confused him; everything was white, so everything blended together, and he found it more difficult than usual to pick out people from the walls. Riza had worn a bright blue dress to accompany him. He knew it was so he would know where she was, but she said it was because she liked the colour, and he appreciated her refusal to acknowledge it as anything else.

He remembered exactly what the hospital looked like, because he had visited it so often the past few years, first for Fullmetal's alarmingly frequent visits for everything from broken ribs to a broken nose, to Havoc's long stint, to various other soldiers who had been in for one injury or another. He knew the smells, the cloying, clean disinfectant, from the countless times he had pestered the doctors to look at his eyesight, each of whom would say that there was nothing clinically wrong with them, and that he would likely never recover. Everyone was shocked when he chose to return to work, even rising up the rankings as he adjusted to his new "situation" (as Riza so delicately put it.)

Riza was trying to stop him from going to the hospital, but he had to know whether there was any hope for him, even if it meant crushing it a little more each time.

She was holding his hand, her body facing the doorway, straining to hear whether all was well in the room. Roy had come to recognise the little sounds she made; the little snuffle when she was upset but trying to hide it, the long breath when she was angry, the tiny sigh when all was content in her world. Her breathing was shallow and slow.

"They'll be fine," he said, feeling for her hand and squeezing it, "stop worrying."

She rested her head on his shoulder awkwardly. Although the fraternisation laws were lifted two days previously, she was having difficulty with public displays of affection, her hand shooting backwards when Roy reached for it in public, turning her face when he kissed her hello in the office. Couples were emerging left, right and centre in the military; the Fuhrer himself had announced his engagement with his personal secretary within three hours of the official announcement, much to the dismay of the older members of the council. Havoc had sent Roy a message saying he found it grossly unfair that they both finally had the chance to have their pick of so many new military girls, and neither could take advantage of it, with Havoc so far away and Roy so firmly tied down.

The colours in front of him shifted slightly, and Roy realised that the door in front of them had opened. The room behind was dark, so Roy could pick out a white coat in front of him.

"Would you like to join the parents?"

Roy felt Riza lift his arm by his hand, and he was gently led into the operating room.

**A/N Gah, this fic is killing me, it's already about 7000 words long and I still want to write more DX**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N I finally figured out how to use the horizontal ruler and I can't decide whether I like it or not. Let me know if it doesn't work and I'll go back to just leaving it out.**

Denny looked up to see Riza leading Roy in, his eyes glassy, gazing in the direction of the bed. He felt awful for thinking it, but Roy's eyes always creeped him out.

Maria squeezed his hand sharply, and he realised with a jolt that he'd been staring. Riza nodded at the two of them, and led Roy to the chair by the bed, where he lowered himself gingerly in.

The doctor turned from the cot he had been preparing, holding a small bundle in his arms.

"Which of you would like to hold him first?"

Denny stood aside for Maria. She was the one who had pushed an entire baby out, something he was still in awe of, so it stood to reason she should hold him first. Denny was aware that this reasoning would earn him a cuff around the head.

"You hold him first, darling. You've been so wonderful."

Maria beamed at him, and Denny cheered silently, his usual tactlessness having kept itself under wraps. He sincerely hoped his baby hadn't inherited that particular trait. He had Maria's eyes, he noticed, as she clutched the baby close to her chest, but his blonde hair. It would probably darken, but he hoped it wouldn't.

The baby reached out with his fists, and brought them back to him, accidentally punching himself full in the face. His lip wobbled, and he burst into noisy tears, as Maria laughed and laughed, and held him to her chest, cooing in his ear.

"He's definitely yours, Brosch," laughed Roy, once Riza had explained the cause of the commotion.

Denny was desperate to hold his son, but he didn't want to reach his arms out. Instead, he inched closer and closer to the side of the bed, his head encroaching in on the scene.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Denny," Maria said, after his hair began to fall in her eyes, "hold the baby and get out of my face already."

Carefully, Denny lifted the baby out of her arms, and took a long look at his first son. His nose was scrunched up, red after the accidental beating, and his tiny toothless mouth was open, ready to cry again. Denny couldn't stop looking at his hands, the small, perfect hands that reached out of the blankets and latched onto his shirt with strength not feasibly possible for such a small hand to have.

He stood for what felt like forever, his own baby in his arms, his wife lying back in bed glowing with a new beauty, and their friends watching him as a single tear moved slowly down his cheek.

* * *

"Honestly, Denny, do you have to cry at everything?"

Roy laughed as Maria gently reprimanded her husband, and Denny blushed, quickly handing the baby to Riza. From her sharp intake of breath, Roy could tell she was surprised. He couldn't blame her; a 9 pound baby had just been thrust into her arms rather unceremoniously.

"Roy?" Maria leant forward on her bed, the hazy cream and navy pattern of her dress shifting against the brown headboard. She spoke slowly, as if afraid of the ramifications of her words. "Would you…would you like to see the baby?"

Roy froze. He didn't want to refuse Maria, not when she was so happy, but he didn't want a repeat of Fuery's baby all those months ago. It was still fresh in his mind, the mother fussing, Fuery apologising, Riza hissing at Fullmetal, and worst of all, the baby's screaming. Crying because of him, because of what had been done to him.

If it was this way with every baby, he could never have the proud family he dreamt of.

Tentatively, he nodded, and Riza brought the baby close to his face.

The child's features swam into view, slightly fuzzy but still prominent. The snub nose, Maria's eyes, the toothless cave of a mouth.

Yet the baby didn't cry. Instead, a hand reached out, and brushed against his nose with the lightest of touches, as he shifted in Riza's arms, adjusting himself to this new position. Roy could see every line on his wrinkled fingers, the fingernails no bigger than a pinhead. The hand retracted backwards, and it took much of Roy's self-control to not reach out and bring it back to him.

He didn't dare move, not wanted to disturb the baby, who was gradually drifting into sleep. Riza gently brought the baby away, and they transformed into a blur, melting into the cream surroundings. Roy watched as a shape – Denny, perhaps – moved towards the blue column that was Riza, to take the baby to his crib.

"Roy?"

Riza had moved back to him. She was kneeling in front of him, her hands on his knees.

"I'm fine, Riza." She reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "Really, I'm fine," he repeated, as his useless eyes began to water uncontrollably, betraying him yet again.

Riza stood up. Taking Roy by the hand, she made her excuses to Maria and Denny, and led Roy out of the room, not stopping until Roy felt the night breeze on his face and knew they had left the hospital.

It was dark outside; Roy guessed they had been at the hospital for a good three hours. Maria had gone into labour in the morning, and they were called for when it was thought she was close to birth. He hated not being able to see clocks.

Would it be that way, he wondered, if that was Riza in the hospital room, Riza glowing with motherhood, holding their baby in her arms? Would their baby adore him, touch his face, accept him, or would they simply scream and refuse to be held by their monster of a father? Roy couldn't help feeling selfish whenever he thought of a family with Riza; it would be unfair of him to burden himself on a child.

After all the families he had destroyed in Ishbal, this was a fitting punishment for him.

A fresh wave of guilt washed over him, and he collapsed onto the floor, years of anger and heartbreak crashing into his skull at once. Riza dropped down, and tried to embrace him. He lashed out, tried to push her away, but she held on tightly, refusing to let him go, and he gave up, holding her by the lapels of her winter jacket, sobbing into her hair, as she moved her arms around him.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N From now on, there are 108 spoilers as well. You have been warned.**

**Also it's gotten a bit more AU, because 108 sort of messed up some of what I'd planned DX Don't get me wrong, I loved it, but still.**

Denny watched Roy and Riza out the window, as Roy crumpled into a heap and Riza held him tightly.

His superiors had been happier, he thought, since the restrictions lifted, but Roy had always had his demons. His promotion, although expected, was tainted by his blindness; everything had to be relayed to him by a personal assistant, and Riza often helped in day to day tasks. Riza and the assistant were the only two people Roy allowed help from. Denny had once attempted to help him up when he had tripped over a step in the office, and had been sent scurrying off with a sharp reprimand.

"Denny."

Denny turned round, to see Maria propped up on the bed.

"Honey, leave them be," Maria said gently, as Denny made his way back to the bed. "They have enough on their plates without us nosing in."

Denny sat on the edge of the bed, his hands enveloping Maria's. His head was still throbbing slightly from its contact with the bed rail. Maria brushed her free hand through his hair, gently touching the shining bruise that was forming.

"Sorry."

"It's ok," Denny smiled, "you've just given me everything I'd ever dreamed of."

To his surprise, Maria grabbed him, hugged him tightly, and erupted into noisy sobs.

"God damn it, Denny, why do you have to be so bloody cheesy all the time?"

Denny apologised, which he thought was the right thing to do, but it just made Maria cry even harder and hug his chest so tight he thought it might explode. It felt weird, he thought, not being the one crying uncontrollably out of the two. He sincerely hoped it was the rush of hormones doing this to her and that she'd return to normal as soon as possible. He wondered whether it would be acceptable to ask for some medicine to calm her down so he could get his breath back.

There was a knock on the door, very quiet, but still the distinctive three that his mother always used.

"Come in," Denny said to the door, as Maria extracted herself and tried to look a little less flustered.

What seemed like the entire population of Central burst through; Maria's parents, his parents, and every single one of his siblings rushed in, crowding the rather small room. They were followed by an angry nurse, brandishing her clipboard in the hopes of looking more authoritative.

"Only 3 visitors at a time, please, this is most unorthodox, I really cannot allow it –"

"Oh, can it lady," Denny's father snapped, and the nurse's eyebrows shot into her bushy hair. "We're his family, that's her family. I dare you to pick the people who can stay."

The nurse, clearly unaccustomed to her authority being questioned, was utterly speechless.

"Yeah, I thought not," Derrick muttered, and shut the door in her face.

Denny stifled a laugh. His father rarely spoke, but had an acerbic sense of humour, and often rubbed people up the wrong way in conversation. Caroline, far more free with her opinion, had yet to learn when it was wanted, and Denny had vivid memories of a lot of apologies to a variety of neighbours and friends when he was growing up.

Maria's parents, meanwhile, were softly spoken, and careful with their words. They had always known the exact thing to say in a crisis, and Denny had grown close to them in the months that Maria was thought dead. Ida would always make tea, before she retreated into her room, and Jack would sit him in the patchwork chair by the fire, and they would sit and talk for hours. It gave him a much needed break from his own noisy household.

They were crowded around the crib, dividing up facial features, as Denny's siblings (despite only numbering 5, it looked like a small army) pressed their noses against the glass sides to admire their new nephew.

"Denny?" one of them questioned, as they tried to rap on the glass to get the baby's attention, before being restrained by a watchful Derrick, "what's his name?"

Maria and Denny looked at each other. Denny hadn't even thought about names.

"Well," Maria said, as nine watchful eyes bored into them, "we hadn't really thought about it yet."

"I think," the youngest lisped, her eyes gazing into the glass, "we should call him Edward."

"No," Maria and Denny burst out in unison.

* * *

The night was cool, the breeze drifting into the window, ruffling Roy's hair and calming him, as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The swirls were blended into one another, making his head ache. The duvets shifted, as Riza rolled over in her sleep, her hands reaching out for him. He slipped an arm around her, and she nestled into his neck, breathing softly, her balmy breath tickling his ear. Out of the window, he could hear a car driving down the street, a dog howling at the moon.

They had sat on the street for what felt like years, Roy releasing everything he'd been hiding, Riza struck dumb by all the pent up anger Roy had been trying to hide from her. He had told her how he'd always wanted a little girl, how he'd wanted to be with Riza ever since he'd met her and she'd hit him with her little plastic watering can, how he never could be allowed to want that because he deserved to suffer for his actions in Ishbal, how his blindness was his penitence, how no child could love him if they found out what he'd done.

Riza had said nothing. There had been nothing to say. She had stroked her hands through his hair, and held him close, and that was all Roy needed her to do.

They had had to move off the street, Riza leading him through the quiet streets back to his home, their home. She helped him out of his coat, his shirt, trailing tiny kisses down his cheekbone as she undid the buttons and slipped her hands into her shirt. He had pulled her close, pulled her in. He never wanted to let her go.

He had never admired her more, as her hands had traced his collarbones and pushed the hair out of his eyes as they kissed. He had thrown everything at her, every single thing he had hated about himself, and she still accepted him, wanted him. Roy didn't know when he had fallen in love with Riza, but he knew that was the moment he realised he would never leave her.

"Roy?"

Riza murmured in his ear; he almost didn't hear her, he was so lost in his thoughts. He rolled over to face her, pulling her whole body into his.

"Yes, Riza?"

"I…I love you."

Roy smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Riza rarely told him how she felt – she rarely revealed her feelings to anybody, preferring to keep her thoughts private. Riza's relationship with her father had been turbulent, to say the least, and Roy often thought that she kept herself to herself in order not to get hurt again.

She hadn't told him she loved him, without him saying it first, until Fullmetal had reached his coming of age and they all drank a horrific amount to celebrate. Afterwards, she had been embarrassed and upset by such a break in her defences, refusing to even broach the subject until two months afterwards.

"I love you too, Riza," Roy reassured her, kissing her forehead, and she drifted back into her sleep, her face serene and peaceful. She rolled over, wrapping his arms around her waist, and soon Roy heard the small sniffs that meant there was no waking her. Her hair tickled his nose as it fanned out on the pillow.

As he began to follow her into sleep, he couldn't help thinking that he would give up everything to truly see her again.


	7. Chapter 7

"Happy birthday!"

Niko clapped his pudgy hands together, unaccustomed to this much attention, and giggled. Much to Denny's delight, he had kept his bright blonde hair, and it glistened in the sunlight, the messy curls sticking up in all directions (Maria constantly tried to find new ways to make her son look more presentable.) Maria kept a watchful eye on him as he fidgeted on Denny's lap, desperate to reach for the solitary candle that burned so brightly in front of him. Denny was chatting away to Ed, oblivious to his son grabbing for the flame.

"Denny!" Maria warned.

Denny looked up, noticed Niko struggling to be free, grinned sheepishly at Maria, and gained a tighter hold on his son. Leaning forward, he blew the candle out, bouncing Niko on his knee as he did so. Niko looked disappointed to lose his potential plaything. Her parents proceeded to cut his cake, whilst Denny's parents busied themselves with clearing up the remains of lunch. Maria leapt up to help them; Derrick was notorious for breaking plates.

Maria couldn't quite believe that it was her little baby's first birthday. She remembered the birth far too clearly for her liking, and the interim year seemed to have flown by, with all its milestones, and little celebrations. She had run into the military offices the day Niko spoke, racing past officials who barely recognised her in her new mother's uniform of faded trousers and a loose top, panting when she reached the office. Niko had enjoyed the trip his mother had taken him on, whirling down corridors, seeing exciting new people.

"Denny!" she had gasped, bursting in on Riza's office. Everybody had looked up, amused to see the normally calm Maria so excited. "Denny, he spoke!"

As if to prove a point, Niko had burst out "Dada!" right on cue. Denny had fallen off his chair in shock. Riza, barely looking up from her paperwork, had smiled almost imperceptively.

"Maria," she had said, stamping some official documents, "I appreciate that this is an important time of development in my young godson's life, but in future please call ahead before you disturb my office."

She was sitting across Maria's garden table, in deep conversation with Havoc, who had joined them especially for the day's celebration. On her other side, Roy was listening with his eyes shut, evidently enjoying the sunlight on his skin. He had always liked Niko, making excuses to come see the boy whenever he could, to play childish games with him and watch as he learnt to pull himself up onto his feet. Maria smiled; Roy had grown so much since their last meeting, even if his eyesight still hadn't improved.

Niko, bored with sitting still on his father's lap, began to grizzle, and Maria leant over to free him from Denny's captive grasp, placing him on the ground so he could explore the garden. Her son may have inherited her eyes, but everything else about him, from his hair to his unbelievable clumsiness, was pure Denny, something that Maria wasn't entirely happy about. He had to be taken to the local hospital far too often, and Maria had noticed that other mothers had started giving her strange looks. She was sure they suspected her of some sort of negligence, but super powers were needed to keep an eye on both Denny and Niko, and she would like to see any of those mothers try.

It was at that precise moment that Niko, who had learnt to walk a few weeks previously but had yet to learn the concept of speed control, chose to trip over his own feet and slam into the ground. He sat up, confused as to how the world had moved about him, then noticed the tiny scratch on his hand and instantly began to wail. Denny rushed over to comfort him.

Maria couldn't help rolling her eyes; they really were as bad as each other, as Denny fussed and Niko wailed. Riza looked at her, and they wearily smiled.

They were both such drama queens.

* * *

As Niko wailed, Riza couldn't help but smile. He was so like his father.

She watched as Maria made her way over to the two blond boys, extracting the howling Niko from Denny's arms. Niko's face broke into a huge grin as Maria kissed his hand, and set him off once more.

She felt a hand on her arm.

"What happened?" asked Roy. Carefully, she described every aspect of the incident with as much detail as she could remember. She was used to doing this for him now; it was a completely normal part of their life together. She should be grateful, she thought, that Roy had at least some of his eyesight, that he could appreciate light and dark. He had taken up painting, sitting in their garden, using swift brush strokes to try and capture what he saw. If anything, it had helped her understand his vision of the world, and helped her adapt to it.

Roy learnt back in his seat, beginning to bask in the sunlight again. The pools of light danced on his eyelids as his breathing became slow and regular, and Riza could tell he was drifting off to sleep, as he always did on sunny days. Twice this week she had come into his office to find him face down on the desk, drooling all over his paperwork as the sun burnt the back of his neck.

Her grandfather had always been that way. She would walk into his office, bearing paperwork, and his feet would be up on the desk, his head slung back in his chair, his snores filling up the imposing office. She would stroll quietly in, and then slam the paperwork onto his desk, waking him with a start. She would never understand how he had time to sleep when he had such a large amount of work to do. As much as she hated to admit it, her grandfather was old. Streaks of white flecked his moustache, and he was slowing down, despite his vehement claims to the contrary. Riza tried not to think about it too much, but he was the only family she had left, and she couldn't bear to lose him.

She glanced at Roy. His head was tilted back, and his mouth was wide open, occasionally emitting a soft snore. Edward was attempting to throw pieces of food into his mouth, whilst Alphonse watched him, a weary look of amusement on his face. He had put on weight since his journeys to the East, she thought, but he still looked far too thin for her liking. Perhaps it was because she was used to the giant armour that clanked when he walked, not this thin blond boy who looked so similar to his brother and yet completely different. Roy had told her that his progress in alchemy was enough to rival his brother's, before Ed had sacrificed it that fateful day in Central. It seemed so long ago now, so obscured by the domestic affairs that had dominated the past years.

Maria, evidently looking for a way to occupy Ed, foisted Niko onto his lap, and Riza suppressed a laugh as the child grabbed hold of Ed's shirt front for support and left sticky cake and grass stains on the pristine white clothes. Part of her ached for a family of her own, but for now, she was grateful for what she had.


	8. Chapter 8

"MARIA! Get it off!"

Maria grinned impishly as Ed desperately tried to brush the stains off of the front of his shirt.

"Now Ed," she smiled, as Niko giggled and began pressing his hands wherever he could reach, enjoying his new game, "you have to learn to deal with children sooner or later."

"Are you mad, woman? I'm 19! I'm not even thinking about babies! I hate babies," he pouted, glaring at Niko, who patted his nose sympathetically. Ed wrinkled his face, as Niko's sticky fingers left a sizeable blob of cake residue. Maria smirked. She could see the adoration in Niko's eyes as Ed begrudgingly played with him, and Al constructed a little duck out of the leftover napkins.

She had agonised over naming the godfather of Niko. Godmother was easy, as Denny and she had instantly chosen Riza, who took her role very seriously. Godfather, however, was altogether more difficult. Denny had wanted to name Roy the godfather, but Maria was wary of the effect that might have on the major general's wellbeing. Roy had only recently adjusted to the fact he could well be blind for the rest of his life, and to name him the godfather of a child, Maria had said, when he may choose never to have one of his own, might push him back into the despair they had witnessed on the night of Niko's birth. She had, at first, thought to name Ed, but quickly decided against it. She didn't particularly want her son to emulate some of Ed's more "interesting personality quirks", as her mother had taken to calling them after Ed had upturned the Christmas table, affronted by Denny's siblings. Maria wasn't sure who told the five of them that following Ed chanting the word bean in chorus was a good idea, but she had a suspicion it was a certain major general, joining them for a holiday break.

Finally, they had both decided on Al. Although he was rarely nearby, he was certainly the more responsible of the Elric brothers, and he was far less likely to teach Niko any bad habits. They kept in touch, and Al was always desperate to hear news of his godson, often skimming over important developments in his own life to discuss Niko's. He brought exotic presents for the child to play with (Maria involuntarily shuddered as she remembered the time Al had forgotten to bring Ed anything, too preoccupied with what to bring Niko) and he enclosed small artefacts with each letter, which Maria kept in her keepsake box, along with her sister's letter.

Maria was brought out of her reverie by Ed unceremoniously dumping Niko in Roy's arms, proclaiming he had had enough and he didn't know how she coped with the little pudding. Niko looked at Roy, who had woken up sharply, and then at Ed. Maria watched, intrigued, as Roy nodded.

"Bean!" Niko proclaimed loudly, pointing at Ed. Roy began to laugh uproariously. Gaining a firm hold on Niko, he began to bounce him on his knee, singing a song about the shortest bean in the cornfield. Ed looked ready to punch him.

"Now, Roy," Maria smiled, "when on earth did you teach him that?"

"YOU TAUGHT HIM THAT?" Ed yelled, jumping on his chair and pushing Al off balance.

Riza had wondered how long it would be before chaos descended on the party.

It was always inevitable; every one of their friends had such big personalities, they were bound to clash at some point or another. Roy and Riza rarely had anybody over to their house, partly because it wasn't large enough to fit everybody in, and partly because Riza owned an assortment of expensive guns that hung on the walls, and she was a little scared of people going too near them.

Usually, their gatherings took place at Maria and Denny's, which had been cleared of breakable items long before. Maria was careful with her possessions, but Denny certainly wasn't, and as Niko had inherited many of his father's traits neither was he. Between them, Maria had told Riza, they had broken two tables, three chairs, a mirror, and a crib. The crib, she had sighed, was a combination of Niko pulling on the bars and Denny's complete incompatibility with any sort of child proofing.

Riza still found it a little awkward when the parties became loud. Social gatherings as a child had always been a sombre affair. Her father would talk in low, gravel tones to some official or other, always trying to network, to make contacts in the military to show his work to. If the parties went well, Riza was allowed to stay up and assist in clearing the tables, sharing a rare moment of togetherness with her father. They never spoke much, both concentrating on the task at hand, determined to do the best they both could.

Occasionally her father would tell her stories of her mother; how her "soirees", as she called them, would be a riot of colour and music, how she would stand at the imposing piano, singing traditional Amestrian folk songs as he accompanied her, filling the drawing room with sound. Her mother had died in childbirth, giving her life so Riza could live, as her father reminded her so often when he felt Riza was ungrateful or had dared to disobey him. Her mother, he said, was a terrible singer, but she sang for her own amusement, and not for the benefit of anyone else. Riza hadn't known her father even played the piano.

"Roy!"

The sharp yell from Caroline quickly brought Riza out of her reverie, and she looked round to see Roy tumble backwards onto the ground, knocked by Al's chair. She instantly jumped to attention, flinging herself from her seat to lie underneath Roy and break his fall. He landed with a thump on her front, as she tensed her stomach muscles to absorb some of the shock.

She struggled upright, supporting Roy's back as he attempted to gain his bearings. Niko looked utterly confused, cradled in Roy's arms. He didn't seem to have been hurt at all. Maria moved quickly, picking up Niko and balancing him on her hip, before Denny could fuss over him and make the situation any worse than it was.

"Honey," Riza said into Roy's ear, once she had checked him over for any serious injuries, "are you alright?"

To her surprise, Roy pushed her to one side, seemingly determined to stand up by himself. His new position confused him, and he fell with a thud back to the ground. Riza stood up, and tried to take his arm, but he pulled it away from her.

"I'm fine," he snapped, "I can get up by myself."

The garden had suddenly gone very quiet. Ed had frozen mid-fit, his arms above his head. Denny was staring open mouthed at Roy.

Ida decided that that moment was a good idea to busy everybody with tidying up the plates. She chivvied them inside, arms piled high with leftover food and cutlery, shooting Riza a quick sympathetic look as the rest of the party entered the house. Roy pulled his knees to his chest, looking almost exactly like the little boy she had first met, sulking on her doorstep.

"I hate this."

Riza could barely hear Roy. His words were muttered into his legs.

She had learnt never to answer "I know" to him when he had these mood swings. They often struck unexpectedly, after an accident or simply during the day, and never lasted long, but Riza wondered if it was how Roy truly felt, if he was hiding things from her again.

She knelt down beside him. His jet black hair covered his face.

"Roy, look at me."

She placed a hand on his arm. He tried to shrug it off, but she held on, pushing him slightly.

"I said look at me, Roy."

"Don't talk that way to your superior," he muttered gruffly, but he looked up, staring at her defiantly. He had never quite outgrown his teenage attitudes when it came to fighting with Riza.

"Don't backchat," she chided softly, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I can see you're finding this hard, but we'll get around it. We always do."

Roy's head dropped again.

"I just don't like depending on you so much, that's all," he mumbled.

Riza laughed; Roy's head jerked upwards, incredulous.

"Roy Mustang, you've been dependent on me since the day we met," Riza smiled, "what on earth makes you think anything's changed?"

Riza was surprised to find herself pulled into Roy's arms. They both sprawled out onto the ground, laughing like schoolchildren. Riza could feel her sun dress rising up, and Roy's shirt was covered in green from the grass beneath them, but she didn't care. She had Roy back again.


	9. Chapter 9

Maria smiled to herself as she watched Roy and Riza rolling around in the garden, Riza shrieking like a teenager as she tried to free herself from Roy's grasp, Roy laughing as he tickled her stomach, and his shirt was steadily ruined. The pair of them always worked things out, she thought.

Caroline stood next to her, drying the plates as she washed them. She was watching Maria with an odd expression on her face.

They had never been close, not like Denny and Ida, who were thick as thieves against Maria nowadays, playing pranks on her with alarming regularity. Caroline scared Maria slightly. She was fiercely protective of Denny, and although she understood the reasons behind Maria's hiding, she was still a little upset that Maria had rejected his advances for so long, and had broken Denny's heart by not telling him she hadn't died. Maria thought this was a tad unfair, considering she hadn't even told her parents and the shock of her "death" had nearly killed her mother, but they avoided the topic, knowing it would always end in hostility.

She knew almost nothing about Caroline. Denny spoke about her often, but Denny always left out the important parts of the stories he told. She knew Caroline liked gin, and that she didn't like rudeness on public transport, and that was the extent of it.

Then again, she thought, she had never told Caroline very much about her past life. Denny's mother knew so little about her, she realised with a shock. All she had to go on were Denny's stories, and she doubted they were very accurate.

She was wondering how to even begin talking to her when Caroline dropped a plate, swearing vehemently.

"Sorry, Maria – your china – oh, bugger," she hissed, as the shards of one of the plates cut into her finger. Maria pulled a plaster out of her pocket, handing it to her.

Caroline smiled.

"I see you've adjusted to becoming a Brosch," she laughed, peeling off the back of the plaster with her teeth and sticking it carefully on her thumb. "I swear, all my clothes have about a million bandages in each pocket."

Maria stared at her. It was the first time Caroline had ever acknowledged her to be a part of their family.

She stood up, placing the broken china on the counter.

"Look, Maria, I wanted to say –"

"It doesn't matter," Maria said firmly. She didn't need to hear it. Caroline smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Thank you. For making my son so happy."

Maria nodded her head. They would never be the best of friends, but it was a start. They returned to washing dishes, and soon they were chatting mindlessly, laughing at their troubles as wives to two of the most useless men that had ever blessed the Earth.

* * *

"Roy, get off, you're squashing me!"

Riza shoved him as he rolled onto his back, laughing at her as she tried to adjust her dress. Her hair had broken free of its loose ponytail, the band snapping into the hedges that marked the edges of the garden. She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she pulled her skirt back over her knees.

Roy was gazing into the sky, looking pensive. Riza lay on her front, tracing the battle scars on his face and neck. It was difficult, following his changing moods, and some days she was tempted to scream and shout back.

Once, she had come home to find Roy sitting in the bath, completely dressed, the water freezing cold. She had tried to get him to move out, and he hadn't moved a muscle. He had repeated over and over that she should leave, he was useless with or without her. She had been tired from her day at work, and he hadn't helped her mood at all. She had become so frustrated with him that she had stormed out the house, taking Black Hayate with her to walk around the city, to calm down. She'd used the time to calm herself down, to think rationally again. On her way back to the house, she'd found Roy wandering the streets, barely able to see around him, shouting her name at the top of his voice, still soaking wet and shivering.

"What are you thinking, Roy?" she asked, silently cursing herself for sounding so childish. Roy's eyes turned, struggling to focus on her face. His hand reached over, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Riza placed a hand over his, smiling slightly as he leaned forwards to plant a chaste kiss on her lips.

"I was just thinking," he whispered, leaning his forehead on hers, "that I am so lucky I picked you."

"You picked me?" teased Riza, poking his nose. "I beg to differ, Mustang. You stumbled on me and you should thank your lucky stars I can put up with you."

He grinned, nuzzling into her shoulder.

"Ugh."

Havoc had wheeled out into the garden, and was watching the couple with an expression of disgust on his face.

"You two are disgusting, you know that?" he yawned, picking meat off the chicken that he was meant to be taking in to the house. Roy stuck his tongue out idiotically. Riza laughed, as Havoc stuck his out as a retort.

The pair of them had grown closer in the months after Roy's injuries, meeting either in Central or in Havoc's new hometown. His weapons business was no multimillion corporation, but, Jean said, it paid the bills with enough left over to keep him in crutches and wheelchairs for the time being. Last time he had visited, Roy had painted his wheelchair a bright pink, in retaliation for Jean's panning of his latest painting. The other military members taunted him mercilessly when they had seen the rather lurid chair. Jean had responded by hiding all of Roy's painting equipment.

His legs were steadily improving; he was able to stand for around fifteen minutes, but he still found long events tiring, although he was loathe to admit it. At Niko's christening, Riza had practically forced him to sit in the painted chair, despite his hissed arguments. At least, he had done until Armstrong's sister had sat on his lap, complaining that her feet hurt too much from all the standing about. After that, Riza remembered with a wry smile, he had perked up considerably.

Havoc headed back into the house, the chicken balancing precariously on his lap.

"Be safe, you two," he shouted over his shoulder. Roy threw a clump of mud at the back of his head.

Riza lay back on the grass, admiring the clouds above her head. It felt good to be part of a family.


	10. Chapter 10

"Denny, hurry up! We're going to be late to the ball!"

Denny couldn't find his shoes. Or his cufflinks. He thought they were either on the dresser or on the floor next to the dresser but they hadn't been there, and now they were going to be late and it was all his fault apparently and where the hell had his hairbrush and tie gone?

On the bed next to him, Niko was sat cross legged, watching his father flap around the bedroom. Denny picked him up and held him over his head; underneath him were his elusive cufflinks. Niko squealed as Denny held him precariously with one hand, attempting to pick up his cufflinks with the other hand.

Niko was getting heavier than Denny remembered. He wouldn't be able to pick him up soon.

"Denny!"

Denny whipped round, unceremoniously dumping Niko on the bed in order to save his cufflinks from getting lost again. Realising that this probably wasn't the best parenting, he turned again to try and catch his son, accidentally throwing his cufflinks across the room and under the dresser. Niko shrieked with laughter, as he bounced onto the bedclothes.

Maria observed him with an annoyed look on her face. Denny grinned sheepishly. He seemed to have a knack of annoying Maria. Roy would say that it was perhaps his only talent.

Sighing, Maria passed him another pair of cufflinks, and – joy of joys – his missing shoes. He opened his mouth.

"They were by the back door by the shoe brushes," Maria said, turning to leave the bedroom. "And please hurry up and put them on, even Niko's ready now and I don't want to be late."

Denny looked at his son. Niko grinned at him.

"Silly Daddy," he giggled, rolling around on the bed. His legs kicked about on the duvet.

"Silly Daddy," Denny agreed sheepishly, scraping Niko off the bed before he got dirt all over the sheets. It was an apt summary from the three year old.

xxxxx

Roy couldn't stop looking at himself in the mirror.

He couldn't see much – just the vague black outline of his body, the flash of white in his shirt, a slight shine on his shoes.

His eyesight was the same, but he was used to it. He couldn't really explain it, but the blurs were clearer to him. Not clearer, that was the wrong word, more…navigable.

He could walk down the street without bumping into passers-by now. He could walk around Riza's house without her guidance. Black Hayate had been irreplaceable in the past year; he was clever enough for Riza to train as a guide dog of sorts, something they should have thought of long before. He came to work with Roy now, on a military blue lead, helping Roy with day to day tasks and warning him of hazards he couldn't observe for himself.

It was because of Black Hayate that he was able to let himself do this.

He whistled for the dog, who bounded up with a tie in his mouth. Roy sighed to himself. Black Hayate may think he was being helpful, but Roy was a little tired of having to wear ties covered in dog drool.

"Thanks, Hayate," he smiled, scratching the dog behind his pricked up ears, "but I'll be ok without a tie today." The dog barked and nuzzled affectionately into his side. Roy patted his head, ruffling the fur. He dug his fingers into the dog's side and rubbed his stomach, losing himself in thought.

"Roy?"

Riza stood in the doorway, dressed only in her black underwear, hair falling loose around her shoulders, watching him with a slight look of suspicion. Roy stroked Black Hayate one more time, before patting his back and pushing him off.

"Roy, you have fur all over your suit," Riza laughed, as Roy brushed himself off. Fur flew everywhere, making him sneeze.

"Riza, could you get the lint roller?" Riza smiled at him, and walked out of the room.

Roy felt on the bed for the little black box and stored it quickly in his inside breast pocket. Seconds later, Riza returned, passing him the roller.

"You're not dressed yet?" Roy smiled, seeing only the rough outlines of lace underwear on Riza. "Unless you're planning on going to the ball like that? Not that I'm complaining," he said with a wink.

"I'll be ready in ten minutes, I promise," she said, kissing him lightly before running out the room to find her dress.

Roy patted his pocket, and smiled to himself.


	11. Chapter 11

Denny never liked the ball very much, but taking Niko was officially the best get out of dance free card he had ever had.

Maria hadn't been too keen on bringing Niko, but everybody they knew had been busy; their military friends were at this function, her parents were taking a much needed holiday in Risembool, and Denny's parents were already swamped with their multitude of children (although their biggest child, Caroline would gleefully inform Denny on a regular basis whenever he pestered her for something, was entirely Maria's problem now.)

So they'd obtained permission to bring the toddler to the ball, on the condition that he was impeccably behaved and didn't cause too much trouble. Denny found this a bit odd, considering that the military regularly let him into the department despite the phenomenal amount of damage he caused to the office daily, but he'd decided not to bring this up. The office didn't know it was him that had dented the wall, for a start; it was covered by a filing cabinet.

He was feeding Niko a little bit of smoked salmon from the earlier dinner, trying to take care not to spill the cream cheese down his suit front. He was failing miserably on both the feeding and the spilling fronts. Riza came and sat next to him, sinking gratefully back into the chair and resting her feet.

"Hi, Denny," she said, blowing her fringe out of her eyes. Denny noticed her hair was down, rare for his superior. "Hello, Niko," she said to her godson, who wriggled out of his father's lap to sit with his godmother. She ruffled his hair gently, brushing the cheese out of it. Denny grinned sheepishly.

Denny liked Riza more since she joined their family. She'd always been a bit of a robot, the impenetrable fortress of emotions, but now that she visited their house, and he saw her do normal things like eat and laugh, and how she behaved around Roy, she was more real. More dependable and kind. He saw a woman who cared deeply for her partner in almost the same way he cared about Maria – that was what made her a person in his eyes.

Damn.

Roy was trying to build up the confidence to get this over with, and things just kept getting in the way. Well, things who were people.

First there had been Fullmetal, who had sprung out of nowhere to challenge Roy to a drinking contest, despite the major general's proficient experience in alcohol. He had pounced during their entrance.

Then Fuery had wandered over and shown them photographs of his daughter and wife, on their holiday in the East, exotic flowers draped over their heads. He had occupied them until the first dance.

Then Riza had wanted to dance until dinner.

Now it was loud, bustling and noisy. Too noisy, and too social. And now Denny and Riza were laughing and joking and trying to clean up Niko.

It was incredibly frustrating. He scratched Black Hayate behind the ears. They had dressed the dog in bright military blue, his work uniform paid for by the government. Hayate had as many privileges as an entry level State Alchemist. The irony had not been lost on Roy.

He felt a delicate hand on his arm, and he turned to his left to see Maria, dressed in olive green. He could make out a gold necklace.

"Denny bought it," she offered by way of explanation, "but I know Alphonse helped him pick it out." Roy smiled.

"Enjoying your evening?"

"Well," she said, "more than I was expecting to. Niko is happy enough, I was worried he'd get too tired. You?"

Roy shrugged.

"Just…trying to get Riza by herself. I need to talk to her. Privately."

Maria looked worried; he could tell at this distance. She drew a breath.

"Not that sort of privately, Maria," he assured her. He watched her expression change to one of joy, and she went to distract Denny so Roy could spend a few precious moments with Riza once more.


	12. Chapter 12

Denny looked up from his son, the human cheese magnet, to see Maria walking briskly towards him.

"Denny, may I talk to you for a moment? Bring Niko, please."

Denny was confused. Was he in trouble? He must be in trouble, Maria never asked to speak to him privately. It must be huge trouble if it meant he had to move away from Riza. Oh god, he was in massive trouble. Maybe even marriage ending trouble. His hands were trembling. He couldn't speak, he could barely move.

His marriage, his life, it was over, it must be. He tried very hard not to cry as he lifted Niko off Riza's lap and trailed after Maria to the other side of the room.

Maria looked him in the eye. What had he done that was so bad? Was she sick of his clumsiness, his devotion? He was too loving, that was always his problem, and she was going to leave him like he always dreaded she would. He could feel his eyes water.

Her expression suddenly softened.

"Denny, honey, what's the matter?"

He could barely get the words out.

"Please don't leave me…"

Maria, the love of his life, his reason for living, laughed full in his face. It was so loud that Ed, from the other side of the room, stopped drinking for a split second and stared very obviously until Scieszka elbowed him in the ribs.

"Denny," Maria laughed, wiping at his tears, "why on earth do you think I was leaving you?" The weight of the world lifted instantly from Denny's shoulders as peals of laughter erupted from his wife. "I was just getting you out of the way, Roy wanted to talk to Riza without her suspecting anything!"

Denny blinked back residue from his silly moment. He wondered if he could blame hormones the way Maria always did during her pregnancy, but somehow he doubted it.

He began to compute what Maria had said.

"Suspect what?"

xxxx

Roy could feel his hands trembling. He held on to Black Hayate's lead tightly as the dog instinctively guided him towards Riza, who was leaning on one arm on the table, feet kicked in front of her.

"Riza? Could I speak to you a moment?"

Riza tilted her head back. Roy could make out her beaded black dress, the glint of the silver in her ears.

"What is it, Roy?"

Roy shook his head. He took her hand, gently leading her away from the table towards the door leading to the balcony.

"It's quieter out here," he said. "Sit," he ordered Hayate, who obediently positioned himself by the French doors. He led Riza out the doors into the Amestris night.

The courtyard looked beautiful in the twilight hours; Roy thought the lights looked like those classic paintings Riza would always drag him to. Blobs of paint, he thought they were, until his sight was lost, and suddenly he appreciated the beauty of what he was attempting to see. The colours blended and swirled, as fresh as the breeze blowing through Riza's hair. He looked up to see an inky black sky. He couldn't tell if there were stars.

He looked down to see Riza standing right next to him, leaning in, breathing in the cool night air. She turned to smile at him, and Roy saw the stars he had been missing in her amber gaze. He saw the green hills of his childhood, the streetlamps under which they had shared their first tentative kiss, and the stars that they had slept under in Ishbal. He saw the lights of their home in the rain. He saw the life he promised they would live together. He saw the strongest woman he had ever known and would ever know.

Riza leant in, looking out and breaking his gaze.

"Riza."

"Mmh," she sighed, leaning in. He pushed her away to lean on the balcony edge.

"Riza."

She turned to see him kneeling down.

"Has your shoe come undone? Here, let me help – " She stopped short as Roy reached into his pocket.

Roy thought he was going to be sick, as he felt around for the little black box. Hands shaking like the leaves on the birch trees below them, he pulled it out his jacket, flicking open the box to reveal the small, sparkling diamond in the platinum band that he had picked out the week before. He held the box in his right hand; he took hold of hers in his left.

"Riza, lean forward so I can see you."

Riza leant in closer. Roy could see her face shining with tears in the moonlight.

"Riza, I love you. With you, I don't need my eyes; you are all I need to see. You are my light, my night, my world. You are my fire. You are my stars. You were everything I needed; you are everything I will ever need. I know I haven't been the easiest to live with, with everything that's happened between us, and I know that I have cut you out or shoved you away, and every time I feel like I've cut out a piece of my soul. Once, you told me that a man who was whole was someone who hadn't seen enough of the world to give you what you needed. You make me whole, Riza. I could travel the world twice over and I would never look back if it meant completing you too. Please, help me take that journey. I never want to travel without you ever again. I never want to lose you. I never want to shut you out of my life again. Would you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"

Riza had shut her eyes. She leant forward, touching her forehead to his, brushing his fringe out of her eyes.

"Roy…I have to ask you something."

Roy clasped her hand tighter.

"Anything, Riza."

She opened her eyes, and cupped his face in her free hand.

"All those nevers…would you make them positive and promise those as your vows?"

Roy nodded, too overcome to speak.

"Then yes. Of course."


End file.
